And a Kookaburra in a Gum Tree
by SonicTeamCE
Summary: The Doctor and River go somewhere new for Christmas. Somewhere Christmas is a very hot day.
1. Prologue

**AN ~ Happy 120th Anniversary to the Nutcracker ballet. I'm betting that's the story this year's Xmas special is based on! SO EXCITED.**

**Meanwhile, I think I've FINALLY squished my angst voice down far enough to write something fluffier for Xmas – and since I'm from Australia, where it's a gagillion degrees every Christmas and we do things differently here, I figured why not write about that! Besides, I reckon the Doctor's overdue for a visit to Oz. (By which I mean Australia. A lot of ppl don't get that.)**

**Disclaimer: If you've got a better title, shoot. Also, this is only SOME of the things ppl might do for Xmas here, obviously I can't include every activity of every family. And once again, I don't own DW etc etc. Plus I have to admit I was partially inspired by cheri1 and her Happy Hillbilly Thanksgiving & Country Christmas stories :)**

**Update coming soon.**

Prologue

The Doctor stuck his head out of the Tardis doors, and grinned when a flurry of snow blew straight past his face, disturbed by the appearance of the time machine. As it settled, he looked around what appeared to be medieval side streets, with lopsided lean-tos against grey stone, and a donkey tethered nearby with some geese running loose at its feet. His eyes scanned the few peasants shuffling about their evening, and soon settled on the russet-cloaked and suspiciously hooded feminine figure half-hidden in shadows on the street corner. She saw him too, and smirked, and a blonde corkscrew curl fell loose, dangling beyond the reaches of the material. Knowing her cover was blown, she swaggered towards the blue box tantalisingly slowly and, when she was close enough, removed one hand from her ermine and lowered her hood.

"Merry Christmas, sweetie," she greeted smoothly as her curls bounced free. The way she smiled at him – endearingly, as if he were a silly but adorable child - made the Doctor frown suspiciously.

"You say that like it's not Christmas."

River laughed. "It's April!" she cried gleefully. "You're in a simulated winter on the moon!"

"Oh." He glared at the Tardis floor beneath his feet for a moment before looking back at River. "So how did you know it _was_ Christmas?"

"You've got snow on your top hat," River pointed out. "And you're wearing your top hat. And, uh...I think that used to be a wreath."

She gestured towards the curling, blackened fragments of something that were fluttering along the ground just outside the Tardis, and the scorched black ring on the door where the ornament had previously been hanging.

"Ah yes," the Doctor said quickly, waving it aside and opening the door so that she could enter. "I was in a bit of a rush. Just tried Christmas, it was rubbish. Well, it was all right, but not very good at all because- well, because..." The words to proceed in his nervous rambling seemed to have abandoned him. River stepped past him into the Tardis, looking around in awe at the glory of its bright golden light, the shimmering tinsel and baubles and mistletoe everywhere. Meanwhile, leaning on the now closed door, the Doctor took a deep breath to renew his line of speech.

"New companion's off visiting and I'm – uh...not. Have you done Manhattan yet?" he asked, with conscious effort to keep his tone light. River caught the odd clash of his moods, and his strange wording, and spun to face him. His face gave nothing away. Well, no more than usual.

"No, I haven't," she shrugged. "At least, not with you. Were there handcuffs?"

She battered her eyelids with a deep chuckle, and turned away again to jog up the stairs and onto the console room floor while the Doctor took a moment to fend off the looming darkness.

"Byzantium," he guessed, joining River by the console and busying himself with the controls before she could. She probably had already anyway, but he didn't mind. Once he had sent them off, he took a moment to think of something to say. This was going to be a pleasant and – dare he say it – safe Christmas. A normal Christmas. Dinner and crackers and presents with his wife. Maybe pudding, though he had never been big on fruit cake. The custard sounded good though. And fish fingers. Maybe he could finally get River to-

"So," River interrupted, perching on the edge of the console panel beside the Doctor, leaning back on her arms, throwing her head back and tossing her hair in a way which suddenly made him want to kiss her very, very much. "Are we going to Manhattan then?"

"No." He answered a little too suddenly: it still stung him to even think of that place. And if he kissed her now, she would know that something went wrong there. So he bopped her on the nose and grinned, eliciting a matching expression from River. "I'm not sure where we're going, but we're going to have a Christmas – simulated moon winter or no."

As if on cue, the Tardis brakes _vworp_ed, announcing their landing. The Doctor and River all but raced to the doors, hauling open one each and leaping onto the planet's surface. They stood and laughed at each other for a moment, and at the rush of endorphins that came from a combination of seeing each other again, and Christmas.

Suddenly, a hot wind as if from Hell itself blew past. River yelped and threw the ermine covering of her hands onto the red dust and gravel at their feet. It felt as if she were on fire already. She clawed at her cloak with a little more desperation than she was prepared to admit, while the Doctor casually slung his jacket off and bent over, running his finger through the dust and then licking it. He grimaced at the bitter taste of iron against his tongue.

"December 23rd, 2012," he announced. "Australia."


	2. Chapter 1

**AN ~ ok so this one turned out to be a little more serious than I had intended – sorry! - but it's not too depressing or anything; all is good. Seriously though people: DRINK WATER IN AUSTRALIA I cannot stress this enough.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or Christmas. I did however have a dream once where they were filming DW in Australia and they for some reason didn't bring enough water, so my family had to share our water with Matt Smith and Alex Kingston. Let's just say it was a sacrifice I was willing to make!**

Chapter One

"Australia?" River raised an eyebrow sceptically. "You don't want to be a little more specific? It is the sixth largest country in the world, you know. Over seven million square kilometres. I love you, dear, but one million's my limit."

The Doctor snorted, trying to come up with a suitable comeback. River rolled her eyes.

"At least check the scanner," she suggested with an exaggerated pout. "We could be in the middle of nowhere for all we know!"

They looked around. The ground stretched out as far as they could see; bright orange speckled with grey-green shrubs no higher than their knees. There was not a house, not a living thing, not even a vehicle, in their entire field of vision.

The Doctor squeezed his eyes closed. It felt as if all the moisture had been sucked out of them. Perhaps it was the dust, or perhaps just the blinding sunlight – as white as anything, and sharp as a knife, even though the orb itself was behind them. River pushed her velveteen sleeves up her arms, and tried not to sound too much like she was panting. _Rassilon _it was hot out here. As the Doctor strode out ahead, waving the Sonic at every pebble and shrub, River retreated towards the shade of the Tardis.

She did not find it stepping backwards, so turned around, and was blinded by the streaming, and now even more direct, sunlight. River cried out, throwing a hand over her eyes and bending over for a minute.

"DOCTOR!" she roared as she recovered, gesturing angrily at the unidentifiable patch of desert where she was sure the Tardis had been sitting. Through gritted teeth, she wondered with a painfully polite tone: "Where, pray tell, is the time machine?"

The Doctor made a non committal sound and knelt by one of the tiny grey bushes, that looked like some kind of giant, dead hedgehog. He plucked one of the needle-like leaves from it, and winced when it cut his finger.

"Doctor," River growled. The Doctor stood up and spun to face his wife, who looked decidedly out of place in a simplistic medieval maroon and white ensemble – complete with sleeves that came to a point over her hand and had a loop around the middle finger – that was now utterly unceremoniously dusted by bright orange Australian desert and already beginning to feel the effects of her sweat in the unforgiving sun. He shrugged at her, even waving his jacket as part of the exaggerated gesture, and explained – slightly irritated that he had to point this out -

"She's _bright blue, _River. We're standing in a _bright orange _desert with nothing else in it taller than K9 – she's a little conspicuous."

River wasn't sure whether to answer that with 'And we're not?!' or 'And no-one's around to see her!', so she dignified it with neither response and set about making the clothes she was already in, a little more habitable in this environment. The Doctor, content to wear anything anywhere, was not going to understand this any time soon. Besides, once they walked far enough for him to realise there were no more people, or to find something interesting enough to run a full diagnostic, he would call the Tardis back.

"And we're not in the middle of nowhere," the Doctor continued. He held his arms out, gesturing to what River could now see was a track through the desert and the strange flora. "If we were in the middle of nowhere, there wouldn't be a road."

"That's a road?"

The Doctor ignored her, his gaze captured instead by some kind of lizard that had just run between the two shrubs. River shook her head. It was going to be a long day – but, she thought as she looked around again, for all the life-sucking heat, it was kind of beautiful out here. Such brilliant sunlight did wonders for the blueness of the sky, and cut sharp shadows against the dirt that for some reason mystified her. This land had a strange kind of life to it, and River was a curious soul, so, like the long-suffering owner of an insatiably curious puppy, she strolled behind the Doctor without complaint as he picked his way through the desert.

.o.o.o.

Hours had passed. The Doctor had had much to keep him occupied. The air was very clean out here, and it gave him lots of space to think. He thought about the things he was keeping from River, about the things he was planning to thank her and to apologise and to celebrate all manner of things. He thought about her parents, Amy and Rory Pond, and how he had loved and lost them, and he pondered the mystery of Clara, who had refused to give him a last name. Perhaps the heat was helping with this nostalgic state, lulling him into a dreamy trance, but it did not clamp his interest in the interesting new _everything – _new rocks and minerals, new flora and fauna. Three lizards, each a different kind, and a small...pack? Pride? Family of kangaroos had watched the strange two-legged creatures on their ways.

As they had walked, the Doctor's eyes had grown accustomed to the sharp colours and shapes, and the constant need to hydrate at a level that would have had him constantly in tears in England. Though the hot winds that occasionally passed stung his eyes, they no longer burned, leaving him free to investigate his surroundings more freely.

The most common vegetation around here was spinifex. He had come across a few other plants here and there, even some orchids, but as they walked, the Doctor discovered more and more spinifex. The tussocks were getting closer together, and they were taller now too. The road was far more obvious, and up ahead, on the horizon, there were two clear wheel ruts of orange against a sea of grey. There were taller trees up ahead too – some almost as tall as he was, and some even taller. _Shade, _he thought with a smile. That would be nice. He ran a hand through his hair – which was by now, terribly gritty and damp with sweat. He grimaced.

"Doctor?" he heard a voice from behind himself. "Can you help me get these off?"

He spun around. An even more bedraggled River than previously had her shimmering grey eyes locked on his, holding out her arms. The red velveteen shield-like sleeves hung loose, but it seemed she had not been able to shed them completely. She had abandoned the outermost layer of her skirt at least, and had tried to pin her hair up higher with twigs and spinifex branches. Her voice was gravelly. Perhaps she had breathed in too much dust. He should have brought some water with them.

"River!" he gasped, scolding himself as he jogged over and tugged at her sleeves, undoing the final ties on each one, up by her shoulder, and throwing the offending scraps of material to the ground. Her arms were covered in a bright pink rash; raised skin in blotches like a jellyfish sting. They were even starting to redden in some places. And they were shaking frightfully.

"River," he growled. "Don't try to hide this from me. You shouldn't. You _can't..."_

He backed away, letting her go, terrified that this would end like last time.

"I'm _fine_, Doctor," River insisted. He could hear her panting now – not as if she had been running, but purely with the heat. Her breaths were terribly raspy. They made him cringe. But still she continued with the facade, though her words were barely audible. "My hands were just a little shaky. I'm thirsty, that's...that's all..."

Her eyes crossed, and suddenly she lunged forward as if to grab him for support. The Doctor jumped towards her, but only just managed to catch her by the elbows as the two of them went crashing to the earth. The Doctor clicked his fingers, beckoning the Tardis to pick them up. And again. And again. Oh no. He pulled out the Sonic again, and pointed it straight into the sky, and its tiny buzz called after the machine to no avail.

"River, come on," he murmured, still trying the Tardis and getting nothing. He glanced around the desert. It must be close. He turned his attention back to River's face. He tried slapping her cheeks gently. Nothing. He blew on her. Nothing. Almost frantic now, he reached into his pockets and dug around for something, _anything, _that might help them. He checked around for the Tardis again but this time spent longer on River. He pulled a bottle out of his pocket. It was apple juice. Close enough. He popped the lid and put it to her lips, tipping it gently.

"Come on, River," he breathed. There was a rumbling behind him, making his heart beat steadily rise in his chest. He leaned closer to her, and heard a faint grunt of recognition as River found the facilities to swallow the juice. The Doctor poured a little more, and as the rumbling grew closer, now accompanied by the crunch of gravel, mentally added to his plea, _I might need you in a minute._

The rumbling and crunching stopped, and a car door slammed.

"Oi," a gruff voice called. The Doctor stood and turned, his hands already by his ears. A heavily-built man in a long-sleeved, checkered button-up shirt and shorts, and a Stetson-esque hat, smiled at the Doctor and waved a hand at where River lay on the ground behind him.

The Doctor took a defensive step forward, wielding the Sonic warily. The Australian held up his hands this time.

"You want to get her up off the ground," he suggested. "She'll burn like a tomato down there."

The Doctor glanced towards River, and then back at the Australian.

"My name's Pete," said the stranger. "My family and I 'r camped just over there. Heard your buzzer thing there and thought you might want some help. Come on, get in the ute, I'll take you to water and air conditioning."

The Doctor tucked the Sonic into the pocket of his pants and slung his jacket over the tray of the pick-up truck, bending down with Pete to pick up River.

"I'm the Doctor," he said, as they carried her gently to the car and installed her in the passenger seat. The Doctor clambered into the tray and kept an eye on her through the window, apple juice dripping steadily down his chin as he took a swig, not having realised how thirsty he had become. "This is River. Thank you, Pete, and sorry I was acting weird. Uh...Merry Christmas."

Pete smirked again, shaking his head as he swung up into the cab. This Doctor's strange behaviour was not the only odd thing about this couple, but perhaps explanations were best left to when everyone was fully capable of talking sense. It was a miracle he had even been close enough at all.

"Merry Christmas, mate," he muttered, starting the car. "Now let's get you somewhere sane."


	3. Chapter 2

**AN ~ This chapter – in fact, probably this whole story – is dedicated to the 14yo Scottish boy who died bush walking near Exmouth on the 21****st**** December. He and his father were walking in temperatures reportedly 48C (118.4F) in the shade, without much water. He collapsed 4 hours into the hike and though he was given CPR and taken to hospital he did not make it.**

**Walking in 50 degrees IS NUTS btw we don't just do this, even Australian's aren't immune to heat. It's not because he's British that he died. Especially since his dad was from Geraldton. I am horrified. This was a VERY avoidable tragedy.**

**Anyway, fortunately, River's story ends happier than theirs (for now anyway) and it's Christmas Eve so let's get on with something slightly happier! I was hoping to have this finished by Xmas but it doesn't look like that's going to happen. Sorry! Will be faster with updates now tho so definitely done by New Year**

**ANYWAY wow I'm rambling: here we go!**

Chapter Two

Upon arrival at the camp site, Pete marched the Doctor straight past the woman reading a magazine and the two children playing in the dirt not far away, and into something that resembled a caravan made out of dark green canvas, which was rigged up to a dusty white station wagon. Here, Pete insisted that the Doctor change into shorts and thongs – which, on receiving a deer-in-headlights look of shock, he quickly clarified were otherwise known as flip-flops. The Doctor agreed, only to have Pete frown at his long, gangly and very _very _white legs as he stepped back out into the sun.

By now, the other members of Pete's family had noticed the new arrivals. The two children – a girl of perhaps eight, and a boy of about six – had paused in their game and were gawking at the Doctor. Meanwhile the woman, who the Doctor assumed was Pete's wife, was bent over by the car, where she had been inspecting the sleeping River until the Doctor had resurfaced in his shorts. Now that all six eyes were on the Doctor, he felt it was a good time for introductions.

"Hello," he greeted with a grin and a wave. "I'm the Doctor. That's River." He tried to point through the car window from a good twenty yards, and the woman in front of the car door stood up and walked over, brushing her red-dust-coated hands off on her khaki shorts before striding across the camp site with a hand offered out to be shaken.

"This is my wife, Michelle," Pete introduced. "Our boy Nathan and our girl Sam."

"Hello Michelle," the Doctor greeted enthusiastically, focusing just a little too hard to be normal on the hand shake. "Hello Nathan. Hello Sam." He waved at each of the children, who still sat by the slightly dug-out patch of dirt in which they had been playing – Sam with a plastic horse and Nathan with what appeared to be a Bionicle of some sort – slightly confused by the stranger's presence and behaviour.

"Hello Doctor," Sam replied after a moment. Silence fell again, and then: "Your legs look silly."

The Doctor looked down. They did look rather strange sticking out of the shorts like that. He heard a woman's laughter and his head snapped up, prepared to meet River's amused expression. Instead, he saw Michelle, holding out between both hands the largest container of sun cream he had ever seen. It was almost the size of a gasoline tub, and had a push-down dispenser, like liquid soap.

"You're gonna be lit up like Christmas in a minute," she said. "No point letting it get any worse. This has got aloe in it too – hopefully it'll help a bit."

"Aloe?" the Doctor wondered, frowning at the tub as he took it.

"Aloe vera," Michelle explained. "It should help with the burn. And believe me, sunburn in England ain't got _nothing _to Australia. You're in for a rough Christmas, mate."

She patted his shoulder as she passed, and the Doctor yelped. It was as if she had thumped him with a meat tenderising hammer, infused with tiny lasers: the skin felt torn, and muscles stinging.

"See what I mean?" Michelle disappeared into the camper without so much as pausing to wait for his reaction. The Doctor tenderly touched the sore skin, only to feel more sunburn flare up lower down on his back when he moved his arm. The regeneration energy would kick in soon. Hopefully it wouldn't be too obvious. As for River, who did not have any left...He grimaced again and hauled the industrial-sized sun cream container over to one of the fold-up chairs waiting by the dead fire, where he applied it rather generously everywhere he could reach. It was slimey, which was nothing new, and mercifully cool even against the parts of his skin that were not burnt.

When he was done and his skin was shiny – though mercifully not white; he had had that much experience with sun cream – Pete beckoned him towards the ute. River was still lying inside, as the cabin had been cooled by air conditioning on the way over, but as Pete informed the Doctor, this effect would shortly be reversed and the metal vehicle would turn into an oven. Besides, the cool air was drying her out just as much as the hot air, and Pete suspected dehydration was more of a problem than the heat.

They drove the ute around to be closer to the camper van, and the Doctor tenderly lifted River from the seat and carried her inside, laying her on the bottom bunk, where she rolled away from his hands in an instinctive effort to get away from anything warm. This movement alerted her to the change in temperature, and in location...and to the fact that her skin was prickling, almost as if it was burning. Her mouth was not quite dry; it felt fuzzy and sticky, as if she had not brushed her teeth in a few days. So the first thing she did was open her cracked lips, searching for water.

Nathan was already on standby at the Doctor's side with a normal 600mL bottle of water – which somehow looked too big for him; he did have to carry it in both hands after all. He passed it to the Doctor, who offered it out to River as her eyelids flickered open.

"Hello sweetie," she rasped, propping herself up on one elbow and almost screaming with the pain as the rub of the material seemed to have shaved it to the bone. The Doctor heard her sharp intake of breath, and contemplated asking Nathan for the sun cream, but he doubted the child would have been able to carry it himself. He would go and get it in a moment; as soon as he made sure of the more important recovery factor.

"Drink, River." He shook the bottle once, insisting, and River took it with her spare arm, downing almost half of it in one go, before she spoke again.

"What happened?" she asked. "Where are we?"

She drunk again, and though the water was not exactly cold, it was still a few degrees cooler than the rest of her body and for now that was good enough.

"We're in...the desert," the Doctor replied. River glared over the rim of the bottle.

"I haven't figured out which one, no!" the Doctor retorted. "They've got a few, you know. Nine, if I remember correctly. 18 percent of the land. As for what happened, _you _passed out from heat stroke and dehydration, and we just so happened to be close enough to a camp site to get rescued." He bit his tongue before he could rant at her about her insistence upon hiding the damage. He knew that she would not listen, and they were both too tired for the discussion any way. "We're going to have some explaining to do, by the way. Your clothes, for example, and why we were out in the middle of the desert with no water."

River glanced around him, towards the blue tarpaulin door flap, and then leaned closer to him.

"What happened to the Tardis?" she whispered. "Why didn't you call her instead?"

"I did," the Doctor hissed back. "But-"

Three thumps on the canvas, replicating knocking, alerted the time travellers to another presence. After waiting a moment, Michelle stuck her head in and held out a small pile of clothes and a hair scrunchie.

"I don't know how well these will fit, but in this heat they'll be better than_ that_, for sure." She smiled, to let them know she was not trying to insult them; Brits, in her experience, had a far more sensitive – or as they preferred, 'refined' – sense of humour than most Australians. "If you don't mind my asking, though, why _are _you wearing that?"

The Doctor looked at River. River looked at her dress – or at least, what remained after she had shed bits and pieces along their desert walk. Fortunately, both of them were quite well versed in rapid and reasonably complex lies.

"It was my deterrent."

Starting with a fraction of a story that didn't make sense, in order to force the listener to ask to have a story constructed for them. A story that both of them knew River already had waiting, so that when Michelle looked quizzically at the British woman with the torn dress, River blushed and chuckled, feigning perfect embarrassment.

"We're down here – in Australia, I mean - with some friends; we've got two months to travel, but we couldn't decide where to start. We decided to split up and have a hitch-hiking race: they've got Brisbane to Melbourne and we've got Broome to Perth. Whoever wins, we meet up at the finish line for Christmas and go from there."

"Wow," Michelle nodded, impressed if still a little sceptical.

"Yeah..." the Doctor agreed in a perfect it-seemed-like-a-good-idea-at-the-time voice; he'd had a lot of practice.

"Anyway," River continued, "each team member gets a deterrent that they can call on any of the other racers at any time. I got told I have to dress up for Victorian England. I look like an absolute lunatic, don't I? That was the point. It means we'd be less likely to get a lift. That's how the game works."

"Okay, but what about your other clothes? Didn't you think to get changed before trying to walk through the desert?"

"She didn't really have a choice," the Doctor explained, with a false sincerity that never failed to make him feel slightly sick. "Our last lift threw us out and nicked off with our bags. Gave us a bottle of water each whoosh, off they went. We left the bottles behind, along with half her dress, but obviously..."

And let the rest of the story fill itself in.

"And what about you?" Michelle asked, looking the Doctor up and down: thongs, ill-fitting khaki shorts, a suit top, a bow tie...and if she was not mistaken, that was tweed he had been wearing before.

"I just dress like that," the Doctor said honestly, tweaking his bow tie indignantly. Michelle laughed again.

"All right, sure," she conceded. "Well as soon as we get a signal, you can call your friends and tell them to book their tickets over here. We're taking you to Perth. We were about to start packing actually; we're hopefully back tonight."

"Thank you! Thank you so much." The Doctor and River competed to voice their collective gratitude, and when Michelle smiled endearingly at them and left, they turned to each other choking on their own laughter.

"I love you, River Song," the Doctor announced, leaning into the bunk and kissing River on the forehead. She immediately jumped back, raising a hand as if to slap him but stopping herself at the last second. Hesitantly, she touched the skin he had kissed with the fingers of her raised hand, and instinctive tears borne from sudden and sharp pain sprung to her eyes as she sucked in another breath through her teeth.

"Ah..." the Doctor backed off, blushing apologetically. "That would be the sunburn."


	4. Chapter 3

**AN ~ Sorry this is taking longer than I anticipated, but I've been busy with my own Xmas festivities etc. Not many chaps left, I reckon 2, but I like the way they are turning out so I don't want to rush. Should be done by New Years anyway.**

**OMG how good was The Snowmen?! Have to say, though, I think River might have to have a talk with Ms Oswin Oswald.**

**Anyway -**

Chapter Three

By the time they reached the fringes of suburbs, River's jaw was throbbing; it felt as though she was cracking her own teeth in an effort not to cry out against the vicious sunburn that covered most of her body, which roared to agonising life with every bump of the car on the road beneath them. She had her arm and the side of her head holding up a pillow against the window, for the sake of stopping the sun, but after nearly six hours of driving, it was starting to seep through like an electric blanket.

The Doctor peered over at her from the driver's seat, but she refused to acknowledge his concern: she was not about to let him waste his lives because she had been unlucky enough to be caught without sunblock in the Australian desert. She was, however, in a good mind to demand of him why he had not been able to call the Tardis back: River Song was a woman of action and adventure, and would prefer not to die of heat stroke, dehydration or skin cancer. Not that he would let her; he would force his lives on her before that.

"What are you thinking about?"

River jumped. The Doctor pretended to be concentrating on the road ahead, peering out at it though there was nothing to peer at but perfectly ordinary houses – though granted they were unusually large - and the back of the family's camper van.

"Excuse me?" she repeated.

The Doctor glanced at her. "I want to know what you are thinking about," he repeated, slightly exasperated - but in a humorous way, River thought.

"I'm thinking...gee it's hot in here." River yanked the singlet down, and smiled slyly to herself as she settled against the warm cushion. She was starting to adjust to this literally blistering heat, and she was sure it was not the glare of the blood-red setting sun off the newly exposed part of her chest that made the Doctor mutter something Gallifreyan to himself and glare at the road ahead. Humming – no, purring to herself, she let her eyes fall closed.

The Doctor had to admit, he was glad that River was not in the mood to converse after all. He knew he was acting unusually sentimental towards her...then again, he owed her after the last time. His last time, at least, though he now understood that the Byzantium must have been painful for her at least on some level. It made him feel better to think that she had probably enjoyed him making an idiot of himself, blundering through all their private jokes with no idea what was going on. That unidentifiable smile when he had said he could kiss her - "Maybe when you're older." He wished he could be like that with younger versions of her, but she had already lived many of the things he had not, and where that was not the case, he had let her down all too often. He could make her no promises any more.

Lifting one hand from the wheel, he wiped the sweat from his brow and took a moment to gather his thoughts. Besides, now that he looked at her, it struck him that she looked a little older than she had at the Byzantium. Perhaps that had not been her last trip after all. Perhaps it had been Asguard. That had been a wonderful afternoon. The Doctor smiled to himself, remembering River's happiness that day, and in his own distraction, almost missed the vehicle in front of him turning into a driveway on the corner. He quickly followed it, pulling up on the verge as if he had been driving these human contraptions for a hundred years – and if he remembered correctly, his second self had had rather a liking for them. This body, these legs, preferred horses for some reason. River just liked anything that went fast: one of the key reasons he had not let her drive them down here.

A high fence blocked the yard, which protruded from the side of the house instead of, at least from the Doctor's standpoint – the back. The driveway ran up to a roller-door, which Michelle was currently lifting, revealing a door to the house which the children rushed eagerly towards as soon as they could free themselves from the vehicle, already asking what was for dinner. Michelle sighed.

"Pete, could you go out and grab something?" she asked. "I'm too tired to cook and it looks like our guests are going to collapse any second. Plus we've gotta get this lot inside..." She gestured to the very full car Pete was standing in front of. He nodded and the Doctor tossed him the keys to the ute before sticking his hands in his pockets and sidling up to the house. River trailed him, and he tried to pretend he was not watching her. It was Christmas Eve tomorrow. Christmas without a family. It was not either of their first times, but still, he had dared hope. Why did he do that?

A six hour car trip gave him time to mope, that's why.

"River, take the kids inside and get some water," he suggested. "I'll just be a second, I'm helping unpack."

"Oh, really, you don't have to-" Michelle paused to huff with exertion as she lifted and turned the camper trailer, dragging it off to the side so that it did not obstruct the boot of the station wagon. The Doctor lifted the door and reached for the sleeping bags that were wedged on top of the pile, only to find River's hands pulling on a suitcase under his arm.

The Doctor frowned at her, and River frowned back. "Really, Sweetie, a little heat rash is not going to do any lasting harm. Are you ever going to learn to stop babying me?" As if to prove a point, she pulled out another suitcase and carried one in each hand up to the house. Her muscles, particularly those of her arms, became taught, but she showed little sign of being overly strained– and the Doctor was stunned and in awe once again: he often forgot that River was one of his most physically able companions.

With two packaged sleeping bags hanging from one hand and a duffel bag in the other, the Doctor followed River through the garage door and into the kitchen of the house, which was part of an open-planning living area consisting of dining and lounge rooms, and at the back, a room full of toys. Sam and Nathan were there already, greeting all the toys they had missed on their trip and talking about what new friends for them might arrive at Christmas. Leaving his bags beside the pile that was steadily growing in the lounge, the Doctor ran right over and jumped with enthusiasm into their game. River smiled to herself, and headed back outside.

.o.o.o.

After a dinner of Hungry Jacks, which was actually Burger King, followed by a mundane but nonetheless delicious desert of vanilla icecream and chocolate sauce, the exhausted campers had unanimously agreed to hit the sack. The Doctor and River were directed to the guest bedroom, and as they entered the ocean-themed suite, River's eyes grew slightly wider at the sight of the gloriously soft-looking bed.

"Oh, and wear whatever you like, just drop it in the laundry tomorrow!" Michelle called down. River obligingly disappeared into the walk-in robe. The Doctor leaned his shoulder against the wall just beside the wardrobe and tinkered with the Sonic while he waited for her to slip into something a little more comfortable. River emerged in a crinkled white button-up T-shirt and striped blue and white pyjama shorts, already scooping her copious curls into a bun.

"Goodnight, honey," the Doctor said, tucking the Sonic away and turning to follow River as she passed, but foregoing a kiss in favour of keeping his teeth. As if reminded of something, River turned to him with the corner of the bed sheet hanging from a menacing fist.

"You touch my sunburn and you won't see the morning. Do we understand each other, Time Lord?"

"Of course."

"Get in then," she gestured under the sheet with her free hand. "You are my husband after all."

The Doctor kicked off his shoes and obeyed, more than a little perplexed by this request. If he touched her at all, she'd rip his hand off. Besides, it was too hot to be this close to anyone – the sun had only just set and it was easily 9pm, and still above 35 of their degrees. But she was his wife, whom he loved, and who may not have been this close to him for several months. He did not mind the heat anyway. And he was only slightly surprised to find that when River lay her blistering red arm across his chest, thus guaranteeing that he could not move for the rest of the night without disturbing her burns, he was quite content to stay exactly where he was.


	5. Chapter 4

**AN ~ Sorry it's taking longer than I thought, I've been busier than I anticipated! This is the second-last chapter though. I hope you guys are enjoying it, thanks for sticking with me!**

**Temps are in Celcius. 40 = 104 Farenheit. And yes, it was pretty much that hot all week.**

**A guest reviewer asked me about their being cold at night, and visiting Alice Springs. Yes, it is true that it gets cold at night (in fact, it goes from 30s in the daytime to below 0, freezing, at night) but at the beginning of the last chapter they had reached the Perth suburbs, where it may not drop below 25 in summer all night! So thank you for pointing this out, I hope I have justified myself.**

**As for where they were, I put them about a day's drive above Perth, and inland. To get to and from Alice Springs would mean 3 or 4 days driving from Perth, so while it would be awesome for them to see it, it would be impractical for the time constraints of this story. Maybe they can drop in at the end!**

When River awoke, the Doctor was nowhere to be found. She groaned and raked her sweaty, dirty hair out of her face, resolving to have a shower as soon as possible, and dragged herself to the window. She twisted the rod to the side of the frame, and the slats of the blind turned, letting in light that seared her sight receptors for a moment. Her eyes adapted quickly though, and the first thing she saw when the backyard began to shape itself was a perfect-sized blue box with a new wreath on the door, hanging over the scorched ring of its predecessor.

River sprinted down the hall, her speed carrying her through the house and out the back door with scarcely a sound. She flew through the Tardis door and straight up onto the console, hoping to surprise the Doctor – who was busy at the controls – before he could register her entry.

The Doctor heard the door latch closed and turned around, alarmed, only to have his wife plummet straight into his arms.

"Hi Honey," he greeted, planting a kiss on her forehead before she could untangle his arms from around her waist. River laughed.

"It's Christmas Eve!" she cheered, beaming with such a radiance that the Australian outback dirt that still coated her skin seemed to shine bronze instead of murky brown. Her eyes glistened and it seemed her spirit was on hummingbird wings which threatened to carry it right out of her body. The Doctor was compelled to smile back at her with an earnestness which, to be honest, surprised him.

Then River noticed the state of the Tardis, and her energy seemed to run out of her feet; the last parts of her body to stop shivering with excitement. There was hardly any decoration up at all; a garland of mistletoe above the passage coming from inside the ship, a solitary sleigh bell dangling from the scanner, and a half-hearted attempt at tinsel around the console was it.

"It's a quiet one this year," she breathed, trying to stay as cheerful as before, but something was just a little off. As he watched her notice this, River could feel the Doctor's cheer draining out of him as well. She remembered what he had said earlier about Christmas not having been very good, and wondered if she would get anywhere asking about it.

Probably not, she decided – but that was fine, because according to the scanner, Michelle had just stuck her head out of the door and was staring at the blue phone box in her yard. The Doctor cleared his throat.

"Third hallway, second door on your left. The wardrobe should be opposite." He gestured towards said passageway, and it was only then that River noticed that his skin and hair were clean, and that he was wearing shorts, and a singlet under an unbuttoned cotton short-sleeved shirt. It registered only then what the Doctor having gotten up before her must have entailed; and yet, she had not felt anything against her burns.

She looked down at her arms, where only faint pink blotches remained of her burns; classic Sonic Screwdriver healing remnants. She touched her face, almost disbelieving, and felt only a slight roughness. River smiled to herself over her sentimental idiot as she recalled he had a setting for healing minor bruises, cuts and burns. _Cheater, _she thought at him as he disappeared out the doorway to greet Michelle. But she let him have this round; she needed a shower more than she needed to give the Doctor any more grief.

.o.o.o.

Michelle was sure to keep an extra eye on the kids, but apart from that, she settled quickly with the strangers' bizarre justifications. Nathan and Sam were simply thrilled by the mad stories that Doctor and Mrs Song told them, and she had always been a strong believer in children's intuitions. Pete kept a wary eye out, like his wife, but he too somehow trusted these strangers – and besides, it was Christmas Eve, and they had no possessions or money. It was a tight spot to be in, and why not lend them a helping hand? They had not done anything suspect beyond tell a bizarre tale: they had even offered to help with Christmas lunch.

"We've been given the roasts this year," Michelle said, with a slight air of complaint. With the tongs, Pete gestured to the three foil trays before him on the bench, each containing a different kind of meat.

"Chicken, turkey, lamb."

"So no turducken?" River asked. She had tried that once. It had not ended well. Judging by the faces Michelle and Pete pulled, and the chorus of 'eeeeew' from the next room, it had not ended well for this family either.

"Never had it," Michelle explained, "but saw a picture once and that was enough for me, lemme tell you."

She reached an arm under the counter and pulled out a bright pink apron. Balling it up, she tossed it over the counter to River and reached for another; it was blue, and she tossed it to the Doctor and he grinned like a maniac as he let it unfold and put it on.

River, on the other hand, frowned at the foreign garment as she let it dangle out straight. _Like a real wife _was written across the front, next to a cartoon picture of a 1960s housewife, complete with red and white polka dot bandana.

"Joke picture from my brother when we got married," Michelle explained with a roll of her eyes as she heaved a casserole dish onto the bench.

"It was for me," Pete added as Michelle passed the dish to him and grabbed a canvas bag from just inside the cupboard, on her way to the door.

"You're not staying?" the Doctor wondered. He wanted to interrogate her more. For example, why did they have roasts? It was forty degrees outside, and set to stay that way for the next week. Why the hot food?

"Nah, I've got some last-minute shopping to do. We've been camping the last few days; haven't exactly had time. You can come if you want, or give me a list of what you..."

River threw her apron at the Doctor with so much force and speed he staggered backwards to catch it, and with a hop, skip and a jump, joined Michelle by the door.

"Don't worry Sweetie, I've got it covered." She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and waved it at him, and the Doctor nodded slowly to keep from smiling. On it were just a bunch of wavy lines.


	6. Chapter 5

**AN ~ This was going to be Chapter Five and the Epilogue, but it seemed too drawn out to have them separate. Together it feels a little rushed, but I think this is the better of the two and especially considering the Season is rapidly escaping me, it's not half bad. I mean, it's cheesy, but what's a Christmas fic without cheese?**

**If you feel you need to crush the fluff, or need some feels to be healed by it, try torturing yourself with the new chapter/oneshot in my collection The Power of Goodbye, entitled 'Ashes' (Amy & Rory/Manhattan theme):**

** www . fanfiction s/7642929/2/The-Power-of-Goodbye (remove spaces)**

**and you know what's bad? In the 2011 Xmas special, the Doctor joins the Ponds for Xmas 2013! (Coz he left them in 2011 and according to Amy there was a 2 year gap)**

**and you know what's worse? In Manhattan he actually sobs. He SOBS. He didn't even do that in Doomsday! My poor Doctor!**

**Anyway, it's Christmas (still, apparently.) What am I doing bringing you down? Shutting up now.**

Chapter Five

River's senses came back to her before she opened her eyes: the feel of the bed and the pillow beneath her, the smell of dust and tweed, velvet and custard that was her Doctor, the taste of the dry air and syrup-scented succulent plants...but no sound of bedsprings. River frowned as her eyes flickered open. The last Christmas they had shared, the Doctor had bounced on the bed like a four-year-old, or perhaps some kind of spaniel, until she had surrendered and agreed to follow him out to the console room. As Amy had later explained, this was because she and Rory had a rule about the bedroom – which the Doctor adhered to only ever in theory – which locked the Doctor out until 6am. Thanks to River's lack of a similar rule, she had stretched out their sleeping time from 4 am to nearly 5:30.

"Bless," River mumbled, smiling at the memory and pulling herself into a sitting position. The first thing her eyes located was the Doctor, sitting in a wooden kitchen chair which had apparently been dragged to the window from the desk in the corner, and staring into the backyard with a kind of...listlessness.

"Oh, River," he said a moment later, turning. As if she had knocked him out of a trance, his face lit up and he rushed over to the bed, throwing himself onto it in a kneeling position and bouncing with such force that River's body hovered above the mattress for a moment.

"It's Christmas!" the Doctor hissed, as if it was some great and thrilling secret. River jerked her head back to avoid a flailing hand, but once the coast was clear, grabbed both of his lapels in one hand and kissed him until, a moment later, he gave an excited giggle which felt strange against her lips.

"Up! Up!" he insisted, dragging the bedcovers away as he shimmied backwards off the bed. With an exaggerated heaviness, River followed her overstimulated husband into the hall, where he took her arm like a gentlemen, only to attempt to continue gesturing with both hands as he recounted Christmas facts and anecdotes to her in an excited whisper.

"Shh!" River insisted. "We're going to wake the children!"

The padding of footsteps sounded, and a little body pushed past them and scampered around the corner towards the master bedroom. The Doctor pulled a face, but stepped aside as another, slightly taller body followed the first.

"Oh, _brilliant!" _River scolded, slapping him gently upside the head. The Doctor winced, moreso because he could not make a sound. River ignored him and hurried after the children, hoping to call them back before they interrupted their parents. The Doctor followed, and River gestured to the end of the hall, where she waved towards where Nathan and Sam were standing outside their parents' room, squabbling over who was to open the door. "Now look what you've done!"

"Me?!" the Doctor retorted. "I _could _have just kept staring out the window but _you-"_

"Meeeerryy Christmaaaas!" boomed a deep voice. Pete, apparently, had prepared for this eventuality. In a baggy red suit edged with white fur, he hauled open the door and the two children stumbled back in awe. Ho-ho-hoing loudly – seeing that his guests were already awake – Pete led the two children next door into the lounge. Slightly chagrined, the Doctor and River followed, and clenched each other's hands with glee as the Christmas tree began playing tinny, automated Christmas carols in time with the flashing lights.

The Doctor and River perched themselves on the farthest seats from the tree as Michelle emerged at last and hauled Nathan by his waist onto her knee, feeling he was getting a little too close to the presents. 'Santa' knelt by the tree and picked up a huge red box, and shook it as if to hear what was inside. He checked the label, and with a few 'ho's for good measure, announced that it was for Sam. The girl eagerly tore at her wrapping, revealing a My Little Pony cafe complex, complete with its owner/manager, which as the Doctor whispered hurriedly to River under his breath, she had been singing the praises of just the day before.

Next up was a thinner, but slightly taller gift wrapped in green, which Nathan soon revealed to be a racetrack set for toy cars, including a loop-the-loop. River shook her head, laughing, as the Doctor and Michelle set about helping the young boy set it up in the midst of the rapidly growing pile of paper.

The gifts got smaller from there on in, but each child received the same number and approximate same size to save arguments: each received a book, a DVD, and a toy to accompany their main gifts. Michelle received a small box wrapped in gold which contained a bracelet, and for which she blew a kiss at Santa. By the time there was a small mountain of paper being shoved into the middle of the room, there was only one present left under the tree. It was wrapped in silver, a short, fat cylinder about the size of a cake box, or perhaps...a hat box?

The Doctor glanced at River. River and Michelle grinned back at him, and Santa announced that the gift was indeed for him.

"I promise not to shoot it," River whispered straight into his ear, in the guise of a kiss. The Doctor grinned and tore open the wrapping with as much gusto as his six and eight-year-old counterparts. It was indeed a hat box, and it must have been the craziest River could find, because it was striped all sorts of colours like a circus big top. The Doctor pulled the lid off, and from the box lifted a hat that at first seemed to be a floppy version of his Stetson...but then he saw the corks.

Pete and Michelle burst into raucous laughter – at his face or at the tackiness of the souvenir, nobody was sure – but the Doctor's face lit up nevertheless.

"Cool," he breathed, slapping it onto his head and watching the corks bounce around.

"It's an akubra," River explained, her whole body seeming to laugh without her making more than a chuckle of sound. The Doctor nodded dumbly, already having taken the hat off again for further inspection.

"Do you really promise not to shoot it?" he asked, after a moment. River's smile took on a sly element.

"You have one week, Sweetie," she bargained. "After that, nothing binding."

"Cool," he said again. Then they were interrupted by a pink plastic horse appearing on River's knee.

"Mrs Song," Sam asked, "can you be Penelope?"

So River played horses – with surprising skill, it seemed, though Sam was mostly in charge of the action – and the Doctor raced cars, and every now and then they crossed paths or combined games. Then they read the stories and played some more, and before they knew it, Pete and Michelle were asking them to get ready for Granny's; the next stop, for Christmas lunch.

The Doctor and River retreated to the Tardis where they each let out a laden breath.

"Children are exhausting," River murmured good-naturedly.

"Nah," the Doctor scoffed. "Oh! I have a present for you, by the way."

He scampered over to the side of the room, and appeared to open a compartment in the wall. Contrary to his usual digging and throwing around of unidentifiable objects, the Doctor reached straight in as if he knew where he was going and pulled out a square, blue photo album: in the cover, a portrait shot of Amy and Rory's wedding kiss.

River's jaw slackened when she saw it.

"Doctor," she murmured, taking it reverently, "it's beautiful."

She turned the pages, skipping a few here and there in order to scan an extensive collection of her parents' adventures.

"I left spaces for the spoilers," the Doctor whispered. She could hear tears in his voice, and it seemed that one sentence had taken quite a bit out of him. But when she looked up, he slapped his knew hat onto her curls and nodded resolutely.

"Thanks for the hat, honey," he added. "Akubras are cool."

Securing the photo album on the console, River tossed it back at him, but when he tried to return the favour, ducked away as if he had just thrown a bucket of ice-cold water on her. The hat fell to the floor, and he scooped it up and chased her, but she did not get far before the scanner beeped an alert and lit up with a scrappy, jumpy video feed from none other than Clara Oswin Oswald.

"_Doctor," _she said, apparently almost out of breath, though some of that could have been the crackling audio. _"Doctor, I need you! It was the Christmas tree, it just -"_

"That's okay, Clara, that's just fine," the Doctor announced loudly and clearly. "I'm on my way, just keep away from it, okay? I'm hanging up. Give me one minute."

The video feed disappeared into itself, and the Doctor whipped up a few familiar commands.

"What is it?" River asked, watching him move so quickly.

"London, Christmas..."

"Enough said," River agreed, and brought her Alpha Meson Blaster out from under the console – just in case.


End file.
